


Reassemble For Repairs

by orphan_account



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, Asylum for the Avengers, Bruce Doesn't Even Know What's Going On, Bruce and Tony Blow Things Up For Fun, Clint Plays The Cello, Gratuitous Use of Old Norse Endearments, Heartbroken Hawkeye, I'm A Psych Student So This Doesn't Bode Well, Loki Is Batshit Crazy, Loki Sees Everything, M/M, Natasha Is Here Just Because, No seriously. Lots of Angst, Post-Movie, Steve Has PTSD, Thor Just Wants To Protect His Dýrr, Tony Looked Into the End of the Universe, Unrealistic Portrayal Of Serious Mental Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-04
Updated: 2012-05-29
Packaged: 2017-11-04 19:47:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts with Steve coming just as Pepper walks out on him. Natasha follows with a broken-hearted Clint. Tony didn't even want to offer Loki asylum, but who could say no to Thor? Before he knows it, he's running a half-way house for his emotionally unstable team-mates. At least no one is trying to destroy the world this month...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Captain Rogers

**Author's Note:**

> Additional SPOOOOIIIIILLLEEEEERY tags I was advised to delete were: #Nobody Told Clint Coulson Was Dead, and #Coulson Is Not Dead.

Tony flinched as Pepper screamed at him, picking up a vase and tossing it in his direction. He ducked and it shattered against the newly remodeled wall behind him. 

“Sir?” JARVIS enquired calmly. 

Pepper’s face screwed up in a horrid snarl and she turned away, storming into the bedroom. Tony sighed. “Yes, JARVIS?” He asked quietly. 

“You have a guest in the lobby requesting access,” the AI replied smoothly. 

“Not a good time,” he returned, frowning. Pepper had demolished almost all of their breakables, it wasn’t an ideal setting for company. 

“I realise that, sir,” JARVIS replied. “However he is Classification A.” 

Tony sighed in frustration, tapping his fingers against the reactor. “Has he called an over-ride code?” 

“I don’t think he knows any,” the AI answered cryptically. 

Tony sighed. That had to be the Captain. Bruce had security clearance to everywhere but Tony’s private workshop and knew more over-rides than Pepper did. (Just one of the many things she’d been screaming about earlier.) As far as he knew Clint and Natasha were still in Buenos Aires, but they’d ninja up his balcony before asking permission to enter anyway. Thor was still up Mt Olympus or whatever, showed no signs of returning. 

“Yes,” Tony said, remembering his lack of answer. “Let him in wherever.” 

“Of course, sir,” JARVIS said, then probably went to do so. 

Pepper reappeared then, lugging a hastily packed suitcase behind her. “I’ll be at a hotel,” she snarled. “I’m taking Happy and the car.” 

“Send him back when you’re there,” Tony requested wearily. 

“No, Tony,” she hissed. “I meant I’m _taking_ them.” 

The brunet scowled at her. “I don’t remember signing _that_ prenup,” he parried. 

“They both belong to the _company,_ Tony. Which if you can remember through your ego, you signed over to me.” She stormed over to the elevator just as it pinged softly and the doors opened. 

Steven Rogers stood inside, looking startled at seeing Pepper so close to his exit. Her nostrils flared upon spotting him and she looked between two men. “Of course,” she hissed angrily. “You have time to be Ironman, but you have no time for me.” 

“Tony?” Steve asked, confused. 

“Come in and sit down, Cap,” Tony said tiredly. “I’ll be with you soon.” 

The blond did, giving Pepper a terrified look as he moved past and went to sit on the one couch not tipped over and littered in debris. 

“You don’t even know, do you Tony?” She shrieked, outraged. “I’m the lowest priority in your life! I’m only twelve damn percent of it!” 

Tony winced. “Knew that would come back to haunt me,” he mumbled unhappily. He ducked, a crystal vase flying over his head and shattering over the mantelpiece. “Is destroying all our things really making you feel better, Pepper?” 

“ _Our_ things?” She screeched. She turned and jabbed the button for the elevator, then whirled back on him. “No, Tony. Everything is yours. Maybe when you have room to fit me into your life, you can call me again!” 

She stormed into the open lift and glared at him hatefully until the doors closed. 

Tony sighed and tapped at the reactor until his thoughts stopped swirling. Abruptly remembering his guest, he turned slowly, speaking: “Sorry, Cap. Did JARVIS warn you that...” 

He trailed off when he actually found the supersoldier. He was crouched on the floor beside the couch, hands clamped viciously over his ears, rocking back and forth on his feet. 

“Cap?” He asked hesitantly, stepping over a broken statuette to reach the man. The rocking didn’t stop, and he knelt in a thankfully shard-free patch of ground. “Steve?” He asked hesitantly. 

The blond head shot up then, staring at him with wide, frightened eyes. He scrambled backwards, hands yanking the bulky backpack at his side and holding up the shield in front of him. 

Tony held up his hands to show his unarmed status, sitting back on his heels. They stared at each other for a few long moments, until Tony recognised the fact that the broad chest wasn’t rising and falling with normal breathing patterns. It was barely moving at all. 

“Steve? It’s me, Tony. Ironman, remember?” He prompted. 

Steve made an acknowledging whimper, but he didn’t lower the shield. 

“You’re in my apartment,” Tony continued. “You’re having a panic attack. Do you understand what I’m saying?” 

“Panic attack?” Steve asked hesitantly, confusion ghosting over the fear in his eyes. 

“Did they have those in the forties?” Tony asked cryptically. “You know. When soldiers came home from the first war and they’d be haunted by the war? They’d have panic attacks.” 

“Like...night terrors?” Steve asked, frowning in confusion. 

“Not really. You’re awake right now, Steve,” Tony told him gingerly. “Now you’re scared. I need you to come away from the mess Pepper left and come with me into a quiet, clean room, okay?” 

Steve hesitantly got to his feet at the same time the inventor did, still keeping the shield held between them. Tony backed towards the guest bedroom/office next to his own and Steve followed, equally hesitant. Once they were inside, Steve slammed the door closed and backed into the corner, putting the shield between himself and the rest of the room. 

“Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking about, Steve?” Tony suggested gently, making sure he made no sudden movements as he crossed to the bed and sat down. 

“We’re under attack,” Steve told him, clearly bewildered at the implication Tony didn’t know. “Why aren’t you going to get your suit?” 

Tony shook his head carefully. “We’re not under attack, Steve,” he said gently. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” 

“We’re under attack!” Steve shouted hysterically. “There was an explosion, and glass breaking!” 

“That was Pepper,” Tony corrected softly. “She threw a vase and it broke. That was the noise.” 

“Gunshots!” the supersoldier shouted, raising the shield another few inches to cover himself. “There was gunshots.” 

Tony frowned. There hadn’t been any gunshots. Maybe Steve was drawing on a past event Pepper had triggered? “Where, Steve?” He asked. 

“Where?” Steve repeated, agitated. 

“Where were the gunshots, Steve?” Tony clarified. 

“Stop saying my name!” Steve shouted, glaring at him. 

“Okay,” Tony agreed. “Just tell me where the gunshots came from.” 

“Hydra!” Steve gasped, standing up and doing his best to back further into the wall. “Hydra is coming and they’re shooting and we need to get and we need to stop—” 

“Steve!” Tony interrupted loudly, stepping closer. The supersoldier shot him a terrified look, then seemed to calm upon seeing him. “Where were you when you heard the gunshots, Steve?” 

“In...” The blond broke off, frowning as he thought about it. “I was in my apartment.” 

Tony resisted the urge to scoff. “Steve, you live in New York— _Brooklyn_ , no less. It wasn’t Hydra. They’ve been disbanded for nearly seventy years. That was just a regular crime, okay? Try and breathe for me—did any of the doctors at shield talk to you about PTSD and panic attacks?” 

“No,” Steve answered quickly. Then he shook his head and crossed to sit on a nearby chaise. “Yes. I think so. I have to calm down, right?” 

“If you can,” Tony agreed gently. “Do you remember coming here?” 

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, lifting his free hand and massaging the top of his eye sockets. “I...I heard the gunshots and I wanted to get out. I didn’t know where else to go.” 

“You’re always welcome here, Cap,” Tony said, his own adrenaline fading as it became clear the panic attack was passing. “In fact...maybe you should stay here for a bit? If this is going to happen again, you really shouldn’t be staying in your apartment by yourself.” 

Steve shook his head. “I couldn’t,” he said. 

“Sure you could,” Tony said quickly, sitting back down on the bed. “If you don’t want to stay up here, there are a few bedrooms in the same hall as Bruce.” 

“Tony,” the blond said carefully. 

“It’s fine,” Tony said quickly. “I’ll send a courier down to get you some clothes. Actually, maybe I’ll just buy you some new ones. I’m sure you don’t have any of them worth keeping...” 

“Tony,” Steve interrupted harshly. The brunet blinked and refocussed his attention. “I, uh, I packed a bag. It’s downstairs in the lobby. The receptionist wouldn’t let me bring it up in case I had a concealed weapon.” 

Tony snorted at that. “You could kill me with your bare hands if you really wanted to.” 

“I don’t,” Steve said quietly, dropping his gaze. “I don’t want to.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Tony agreed. “Come on. I’ll give you a tour of the other private floors while I get housekeeping in to tidy up Pepper’s mess.” 

“Will she be angry when she gets back?” Steve asked hesitantly. “If she knows you’ve asked me to stay.” 

“Pepper’s not coming back.” Tony was a little surprised at himself at the tone of his words. He should be bitter and raging, but he just sounded tired and resigned. Then again, their fight had been going on for weeks now. “Come on. I’m sure Bruce would be glad to see you again...” 


	2. The Irrelevant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really unhappy with this chapter. Hopefully the next one will be better. And longer.

Tony looked up from his circuit board to find Steve standing nervoulsy on the other side of the desk. He turned off his blowtorch immediately and set it down, lifting his visor and giving the Captain a concerned look. 

“What is it, Steve?” He asked carefully. 

“Agents Barton and Romanov are upstairs,” Steve answered uncomfortably. “He...he seems to be in a really bad way.” 

“I’ll be up in a sec,” Tony promised, already unbuckling his fireproof gloves and typing in the codes to lock everything down. 

Steve was standing by the door. Tony paused mid-movement and gave him a concerned look. “You okay, Cap?” 

Steve shrugged. “I’m not going to have another attack,” he said. 

Tony frowned. “That’s not what I asked,” he murmured, taking off his gloves. He shook his head and headed past the supersoldier to the door. “Let’s go and check on Hawkeye, shall we?” 

‘A really bad way’ was clearly forties’ era speak for ‘looks like shit’. The archer was sat on one of the armchairs, wrapped in blanket. His skin was pale and he was dishevelled—blank eyes staring towards the wall. Natasha was perched on the armrest, rubbing a hand in circles on his back. 

“What happened?” He asked, perching on his coffee table. Pepper had always gotten pissed when he sat on the table, but she wasn’t exactly around to judge now, was she? 

Natasha glanced apologetically at Clint and leaned forward, murmuring quietly to the millionaire: “nobody told him about Coulson.” 

Tony frowned, a familiar pang at the name getting shoved aside. “So? What’s Barton care about it? He was just his handler.” 

He ducked the lamp that was thrown at his head, but it was only a testament to Clint’s fugue that it didn’t hit him anyway. The previously empty expression was turned up in a vicious smile. “Fuck you, Stark,” he growled through a raw throat. “You don’t know a thing.” 

Tony turned the facts over in his head and felt the familiar pang sharpen as his face went ahead and gave Clint a bewildered expression without his permission. “You play the cello?” He choked out, mocking. 

Clint blinked at him a few times, his face slack with surprise. Then his face turned up in a snarl again and he turned away. “Trust you to focus on the irrelevant, Stark.” 

Steve reappeared with a steaming mug of some sort of beverage and handed it to the archer. Tony gestured for Natasha to follow him and they stood in the kitchen, watching as Steve and Clint sat silently. 

“What really happened?” 

She looked stricken and guilty. “I’d assumed somebody had told him when he woke up after Loki’s spell,” she explained. “I thought we were going to ignore it, like he was repressing his grief. When we were chasing down the rest of Loki’s army, he was wicked and ruthless. I thought it was revenge...” 

She broke off and glanced at Clint’s trembling hands curled around the gaily coloured mug. “We were in Budapest when he asked why Coulson wasn’t surpervising our case. I...I had to tell him.” 

Tony put a hand on her shoulder somewhat awkwardly. “It’s okay,” he lied. “The two of you can stay in the Tower for a while. As long as you need to.” He frowned slightly, rolling back through his thoughts. “How did you get in? You didn’t use an access code.” 

“We came through the balcony,” she replied, blank-faced. 

He couldn’t help but smile at the irony. “I’m not even surprised. JARVIS,” he called, adressing the AI, “assign rooms to Hawkeye and Widow. Ask Bruce and Steve what they fancy and get it delivered. I’ll be in my lab.” 

He had almost left the room when Natasha said: “thank you.” He froze in place. “For letting us stay. There wasn’t really anywhere else we could go.” 

A rueful smile tugged at Tony’s lips. “This place is a bit like that, isn’t it?” Shaking his head before she could answer, he retreated back to his workshop. 

He checked in on his four cohabitants hours later as they sat in the media room around the news. The other three were ignoring Clint quietly sobbing, so he did as well. 


	3. A Broken God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the owwy Loki feels ever.

“Okay, Banner—keep an eye on the readings. JARVIS, I want you to increase the output by thirty percent.” 

“Sir,” the AI acknowledged. The numbers on the various screens began to cycle and Tony sat back in his couch beside Bruce. “Lazer prototype is ready and waiting, sir.” 

Tony shot the doctor a grin and picked up his bucket of popcorn. “Fire when ready!” 

The lab lit up with light as the lazer fired and Tony didn’t even try to fight off the grin that split his face with the resulting explosion. Once the smoke cleared, the engineer turned to Bruce with his grin still in place. “And that, my friend,” he said, “is why you don’t buy iPhones.” 

Bruce grinned back at him and stood up to clear the shrapnel remains of Apple property. Tony stood with his box of popcorn and headed to one of the computers. “JARVIS?” He said quietly, hesitant. “Did Steve hear the noise?” 

“Captain Rogers was unaware of the disruption, sir,” the AI answered. He brought up the security footage of Steve sat in front of the tea, a chessboard sat between him and Natasha. “It appears the soundproofing of Doctor Banner’s lab was successful.” 

Tony nodded and went to close the window. He frowned, eyes catching on the flashing symbol on the side of the glass. “Bruce,” he called, tapping the icon and bringing it up in full. “What’s this?” 

Bruce adjusted his glasses on his nose to squint at the screen from across the rooms. “Just a remnant of the programme I used to track the tesseract,” he replied dismissively. “Why?” He asked curiously. 

“The numbers are going crazy,” Tony murmured, more to himself than the doctor. He spent a moment in contemplation before he was swearing and dashing out of the laboratory. 

“Sir,” JARVIS said, “there appears to be some unusual energy activity going on atop the Iron Man landing pad.” 

“Got it, JARVIS,” Tony hissed, nearly throwing himself around the corner into the living room. Natasha and Steve were standing by the glass windows, watching the gathering blue swirl of energy just visible. “You might want to stand back,” he murmured to them. 

Steve gave him a glare and followed him out onto the platform. There was a brilliant blue flash of light, and the gathering swirls were gone. In their place stood two figures. One was hooded and cloaked, indistinguishable because he faced away from them. The second figure was easily recognisable and, as a matter of fact, entirely unforgettable. 

Thor, “god of thunder”, gave them a nod and helped the second figure to sit on one of the stairs. Tony’s suspicions were roused, even before Steve gripped his arm to communicate the warning. 

Thor strode across the platform and stopped in front of them. “Man of Iron, Captain of the America. It is good to see you again—though I wish they were under better circumstances.” 

Tony knew the supersoldier’s eyes were locked unwaveringly on the cloaked figure and allowed himself to relax and meet the Asgardian’s earnest blue eyes. “Not that it’s not nice to see an old friend, but what are you doing here, Thor?” 

The thunderer glanced over his shoulder at the figure, then steeled himself and turned back to Tony. “I seek your assistance, Man of Iron. I am in need of a dwelling on Midgard, but I know not how to acquire one.” 

“Call me Tony,” he answered quickly. Then he processed the god’s words and frowned. “You...you want me to take you real estate shopping?” He asked. 

“I don’t know what that means,” Thor admitted easily. 

“House shopping,” Tony replied quickly. “What sort of place are you looking for? I’ve got a number of properties, and I’d rather not bother with the fuss if I can just let you stay in one of those.” 

“Tony,” Steve said suddenly, arm gripping Tony’s viciously. It would no doubt be branded with black handprints before the hour was out. 

He looked around Thor and found that the covered figure had turned to face him, the bright light piercing the shadows of the dark hood. Loki’s face looked out of them as if straight from a child’s nightmare. His face was sunken, more skull-like than ever and covered in yellow skin. Dark blue bruises sat under his eyes, more whites than too-green iris. 

Tony placed his hand on Steve’s. He frowned at Thor. “Better call off your brother, Thor. He’s scaring my supersoldier.” 

“He’s not afraid,” Loki replied, his voice blanketing the air in chill silence. He stood and started crossing the platform in a slow, measured step. “Not of me, at least.” He came to stand beside Thor, too-green eyes staring intently at Steve. “All of the monsters tearing through your mind—and there’s no room left for me.” 

“Back off,” Tony growled, stepping forward. Loki fixed him with an earnestly curious look. “Or I’ll tell Barton exactly who you are.” 

“The hawk,” Loki breathed, shivering and stepping away. Was he—yes, that was him actually cowering behind Thor. 

The thunderer’s expression was pained, and he reached back to grasp one of Loki’s violently trembling hands. “Please,” he begged in a broken voice. “I know Loki has begrieved you, all of you. Believe me when I say he has paid for his crimes and will continue to do so. We mean you no harm—I only ask for your amnesty for a brief time until we can find a refuge.” 

“Fine,” Tony agreed grudgingly. “Come inside. I need a drink.” 

Steve’s hand stayed under his own, tight around his bicep, until well after they were inside. Then he skirted the very edges of the room to stand as far away from the seat the two gods took as possible. 

Tony took the armchair across from them with a tumbler of scotch held tight in his hand. 

Loki was watching him, bewilderment crossing his far-too-open expression. “How do you do it?” He whispered, awed. 

“Loki,” Thor said, his tone warning. 

The god glanced at his brother quickly, then back to Tony. “You stared into the very end of the universe and broke your soul into shards. How are you still...?” He trailed off. 

Thor sighed tersely and grabbed his brother’s hands. “Enough,” he growled. “Please, Loki, hold your tongue.” 

Loki nodded and ducked his head, face disappearing once more beneath the shadows of his hood. Thor turned back to him, murmuring apologies that Tony couldn’t hear. 

His hands were shaking and he couldn’t stop them, the room becoming irrelevant as the memory overcame him. The dark of deep space, not at all disguised by the massed army or the thin banner of stars. The black, empty nothingness stretching on and the crushing... 

“Tony?” 

At the sound of Steve’s voice, he was tugged back to the present. He managed to say something clever to Thor, but he didn’t know what it was. He met the too-green eyes just visible beneath the hood, hardly trusting the thought that they looked concerned. 

“They could stay here,” Steve said quietly, intending for Tony to hear, though that was impossible in the close room. “It’s become a refuge for the rest of us,” he added at Tony’s blank look, “why not the two of them.” 

“Because Loki tried to kill us,” Tony deadpanned. 

“No, not me,” Loki said. Thor said his name again in warning, but Loki ignored him, rocking back and forth slightly as he mumbled words half-intelligible into the room. “Armies massed and needed to offer the world what protection I could muster. _He will make you long for that so sweet as pain_.” The god shuddered violently and hands began to claw at the exposed skin of his wrists. 

A pang echoed in his chest at Thor’s pained look, the thunderer taking his brother’s hands and restraining the wicked fingers effortlessly. Loki slumped, a quiet whimper just audible in the room. Tony knew that sound—he’d heard it over and over on the security footage as he laughed about Hulk’s victory with a clearly uncomfortable Bruce. He’d never hear it the same again. 

“You can stay.” Tony was shocked at his own voice, so ragged and offering what he’d sworn never to do. 

“Thank you,” Thor replied, gratitude shining from his eyes. 

The elevator opened with a ding and Bruce entered, wiping his hands. “Tony, I’ve cleaned up the—” 

He was interrupted by a primal scream that tore Tony’s aching chest open and filled it with fear. The crash of furniture was barely audible beneath it and when it echoed out, freeing his mind, he looked for its source. 

Loki was doing his best to bury himself into the wall, panicking limbs striking out at the thunderer. “Thor, you promised!” he shouted in a broken voice. “You promised I’d be safe here.” 

Tony glanced back at Bruce and the desolate, horrified expression on his face. He knew the mild-mannered felt the weight of guilt for every crime of the Hulk’s. This was clearly a blow he neither needed or desired. 

When he looked back at the two gods, Thor had managed to gather the slighter man in his arms. Loki shook in his embrace, eyes squeezed shut in avoidance. The thunderer whispered foreign words into the dark hair (Tony would venture it as Old Norse, if he was asked to guess). A hand ran a soothing line up and down the shaking back—Tony’s first thought was for the aching loneliness opening up in his chest, but his second was more to the lines of _need to stop thinking of them as ‘brothers’._

Thor lifted his head and met horrified eyes. “I’m sorry, Doctor Banner. I have no right to ask you to leave in your own home, but if you could stay away I would be grateful. At least until we have set our new course.” 

Bruce nodded, wounded, and backed away to the elevator. After the doors were closed, Thor coaxed his trembling charge back to the couch he righted with a spare hand. The too-thin figure crawled into Thor’s lap and stayed there, wrenching whimper just audible to Tony still frozen in his armchair. 

“We cannot stay,” Thor said at long last, a meaty hand stroking through matted raven hair. 

“You can,” Steve’s weak voice offered. Tony had almost forgotten the supersoldier was even there. 

“The green monster hiding under a layer of skin,” Loki murmured, sounded possessed. “Such thin, thin skin—tear it like parchment and you’re trapped with the monster.” He gave another violent shudder and tried to crawl impossibly further into Thor’s lap. 

“Bruce has it under control,” Steve promised. “His skin is thicker than you think.” 

“I could put you on a completely different floor,” Tony mused aloud. “I can’t offer you any safer place than this tower.” _You’ll fit in here_ , his thoughts cried out to the terrified god. _We’re all falling apart._

Loki met his eyes, and he knew the god had heard. He turned the too-green gaze on his protector and burrowed closer. “We need to be here, Thor,” he said. “When the time comes, we will need to be here.” 

Tony felt more relief than foreboding, but he still didn’t meet Steve’s eyes as he went to organize a room to house the two gods. 


End file.
